


A convenient arrangement

by Geradsredskittle666



Category: Agatha Christie's Poirot (TV)
Genre: Coming Out, Divorce, Gay Male Character, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Male Slash, Period-Typical Homophobia, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 10:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12604872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geradsredskittle666/pseuds/Geradsredskittle666
Summary: Hasting's wife find outs that his gay and is surprisingly understanding. Hasting comes out to Poirot and confesses his love. Warnings: male/male relationship, slight reference to wet dreams (nothing detailed), divorce, gay coming out, homophobia. Pairing: Starts as Hastings/wife then becomes Hastings/Poirot





	1. The wet dream

**Author's Note:**

> I am new to Archives of our own but I have written on (fan fiction . net). I write under the same user name. This work was originally published on 15/1/16 under the same name. I am prepared to verify this for any mods.

**A convenient arrangement**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot books or tv series, any related characters or property. I write only to entertain and I make no profit from this work.

**Warnings:** male/male relationship, slight reference to wet dreams (nothing detailed), divorce, gay coming out, homophobia

**Pairing:** Starts as Hastings/wife then becomes Hastings/Poirot

**AN:** slightly AU (divorce of his wife happens under different circumstances)

**START**

The day his wife found out, Hastings was beside himself. He had been dreaming...the sort of dreams that all men had. He had moaned out a name other than his wives. This would have been bad if it was another woman. After all scandal between husband and wife was...well scandalous.

It had been a mans name. The Capitan was uncharacteristically shaken. Would they discharge him from the army for this? What would the papers say? What would those that passed him in the streets think of him?

His wife had been angry at first. She had asked him if he was having an affair. He had assured her that wasn't true. Thankfully she had believed him. She had always known him to be loyal to country, friend and wife.

She seemed to take pity on him. "I won't report you. I think we can come to an arrangement."

Hastings had remained silent. He didn't trust his words even if he had known what to say. Poirot would have known what to say...

"Does he feel the same?" she asked.

He was caught off guard. "How would I know? He is awfully affectionate but how would I know if thats just his way? His not from around here." he answered honestly. If his wife would protect him, she would protect Poirot.

"You should ask." she replied easily.

Hastings frowned. How could he put his friend in such a position? To have to protect him. To have to entertain such an absurd thought. And if the police came knocking? To lie for him. Or to turn him in.

His thoughts were interrupted by his wife's giggle. "Stop thinking so much! You know he will always be loyal to you. You know he would always be your friend. Just tell him."

He must have looked rather surprised.

"I know you, Arthur. I love you. There is not much you can hide from me." she said fondly.

He nodded. "Quite right! What about us? Surely you would want a divorce?" he said uncertainly.

He felt awful. Hearing her speak of her love was like a dagger. He had tried to love her as she deserved but it wasn't his way. He hated suggesting a divorce. He hated that it had become his only option.

His wife deserved better. His wife deserved a man that would care for her, please her and support her. He cared for her. He really did but he could not love her.

"Yes, I suppose so. Don't be upset. I am not. I love you. I want you to be happy. If Poirot makes you happy, then I will let you be with him." she said kindly.

"I don't deserve you. You should contact a lawyer, I'll make time Friday." Hastings replied, relieved.

AHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHP

Poirot had been speaking for a while now...something about dressing like a proper gentleman. Everything in its place, as the man said. I smiled at that. I had always loved how well dressed the other was.

I was vaguely aware his friend had stopped speaking. I blinked back to awareness with what I hoped was a merely inquisitive look. "Is something the matter? You are so distracted." The detective spoke sounding more concerned than he should have.

I hope I don't look too much a mess...I swallow thickly, trying to ground my emotions. "Oh just some domestic matters." I reply (Its hardly a lie). "Hardly worth bothering about" I excuse.

He frowns and thinks. "You are bothering a great deal about them." he says agitated.

I know when him when gets this way, he must either know what I am hiding or try calming himself. How much truth can I offer him? "Well if you really wanted to know, I'm divorcing. Thankfully it should be quite amicable. No hard feelings." I say, trying to hide my feelings.

Poirot stills again and nods. "I see, mon ami. Did you want me to as they say... cheer you up? I understand you wish to make it easier for your wife but you should speak freely here." he says kindly.

Speak freely? How freely is too freely? Admitting his love? I laughed without realising it. Only when I see Poirot's offended look do I realise. "You think it humorous? Is my offer so...funny?" he demands.

"Of course not. Its rather touching, actually. I was lost in my thoughts. I hope your not offended." I say calmly.

Not surprisingly he calms instantly. I did so love his passions. "What is the reason you divorce, mon ami?" he asks curiously.

How do I tell him why? How could I possibly explain it? I decide on a half truth. "We were not working out. I couldn't give her what she wanted." I say.

He seems to be waiting for more. What else can I say? 'Oh Poirot, I love you. Won't you be my boyfriend? I mean we can't tell anyone and I offend your religious sensibilities but...' I don't bother finishing the thought. He would have to refuse me.

"Do not look so unhappy. I'm sure you will find a new wife in no time!" he exclaims kindly.

I can't help myself. "I doubt that!" I say without thinking.

He seems to notice something, glancing at me strangely. "Something troubles you." he states, cocking his head to one side.

I don't reply...

I decide to trust him with my life. "You see, old boy. I'm not sure I should say. I wouldn't want to put you in a bad position." I pause.

He is smiling again. I can see he is unfazed. He merely looks encouraging. I find myself relaxing. How can I doubt his loyalty? "My marriage was a farce. I cared for her but I could never love her." I start, pausing to collect my thoughts.

I feel nervous. I feel angry. I feel sad. I feel frustrated. I can't help but ask: Why?

"I guess I should have known. I never had any serious girlfriends at school. I guess it never felt right." I say softly. I refuse to look up, to see the disgust in his eyes.

To my surprise, I feel his warm hands grasp mine. "Mon ami, do not fret. Speak what is upsetting you so!" he urges kindly. If has come to the correct conclusion, its not apparent.

"Oh damn it all! I'm gay!" I exclaim. The quicker the better! I don't hear Poirot say anything, nor does he move his hands.

After some silence he speaks. "This is what was causing you the bother?!" he asks amazed.

I look up, feeling wet tears on my face. He doesn't look angry or upset. He doesn't even look uncomfortable. He looks perplexed not disgusted. "You'd still have me?" I ask.

Poirot sighs. "Of course, mon ami. Why would I not? What business it is of mine who you choose to be happy with?" he asks simply. "This is the reason for your divorce, no?"

I nod. "Yes. We both agree it is for the best. She can find someone to make her happy." I say, much calmer now.

"And what of your happiness?" Poirot asks.

I laugh. "I'm afraid he would turn me down. In any case, I'd rather not put anyone in an unfavourable position." I reply.

Suddenly I feel nervous again. His eyes assess me, his expert eye taking in every detail. "Maybe not so. You should ask. Then you would know." he says briskly.

He hands his handkerchief to me. "Now dry those eyes! This is no time to be upset when you can be happy. We must find him." he insists, firmly but not unkindly.

I smile at the gesture. He must consider me highly to present me his handkerchief! "Oh, your a dear!" I reply. I take a calming breath. Its now or never. Where is that courage now? "I'm afraid we won't need to search far. Please don't be alarmed but..." I pause.

He looks frustrated but excited for me. "Who is the lucky one?" he asks.

"Lucky?" I ask, off topic.

He simply nods. "Yes, anyone would be lucky to have someone as brave, loyal and so utterly kind as you." he replies easily.

I laugh. "I'll understand if you want me to go...its you. I will take my things and leave now." I say dejectedly.

Now he looks confused. "Go? Leave? Do not be absurd!" he exclaims.

I dare to ask. "You accept?"

He laughs now. "Mon cher, Mon amour...how could I refuse?" he says as if it the most obvious thing in the world. He moves to sit beside me, placing an arm around my waist. "You permit Hercule to comfort?" he asks.

I grunt affirming my approval.

I feel him pull me into his own warm body, one hand running through my hair. I can't help the giddy school girl smile on my face. I hear him muttering in his native language. It sounds nice, even if I can't understand more than a few words. Without meaning to I close my eyes and drift asleep.

AN: R and R. Mon ami – my friend, Mon cher – my dear, Mon amour – my love. (all in French)


	2. Telling Poirot

**A convenient arrangement**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot books or tv series, any related characters or property. I write only to entertain and I make no profit from this work.

**Warnings:** male/male relationship, divorce, homophobia

**Pairing:** Starts as Hastings/wife then becomes Hastings/Poirot

**AN:** slightly AU (divorce of his wife happens under different circumstances)

**START**

I wake still in his arms. I wonder how long this relationship could ever last...the thought makes me savour the feeling even more. If this is all I see of heaven, then let it be all I feel while it lasts! I notice that he starts to wake too...

Instantly I stiffen. Would he regret us? He seems agitated. "You do not look happy...is this not what you desire?" he asks confused.

I smile fondly, mentally taking stock of every bit of this moment. "I'm beyond happy. With us I mean. I just wonder..."I say pausing, trying to solidify the memory of this moment before it is just that. A mere memory.

He huffs. "You wonder what?" he asks annoyed...and worried?

"Your jolly good to me. I wonder if this will last. If you regret." I say quietly looking at my feet.

He growls as if angry. His gentle hands force my head up and he looks intensely in my eyes. "You, mon ami, are not a regret. I do not dedicate myself without good cause. You, mon amour, are the good cause. Comprendre?" he says firmly with great conviction.

I try to calm the swell of emotions that statement causes. Me, the good cause? I feel a tear slide down by cheek. Oh how embarrassing!

He seems pleased. "I see you understand. If you ever doubt me, I will put you mind at ease, mon cher. Now it is quite late, shall you return home or stay with me?" he offers casually.

"Stay here?" I echo stupidly.

He frowns, he seems upset now. "Am I making you not comfortable? I will sleep on the sofa. Yes. You must be quite overwhelmed. I should have thought the idea through better." he speaks attempting to sound his normal self. I can see that he is hurt but his pride would not allow him to show it.

"Poirot." I say loud enough to break his tirade. "Its not like that. I am surprised...astonished really. After today...well its all been like a dream. I don't want you to feel like rushing this on my account. Are you okay with sleeping in the same bed as another man? As me? As your boy-" I confess.

"Men do so with their woman, no? Why should we be any different?" he asks as if its the most natural thing in the world. Not the social and punishable taboo it really is.

"I suppose so. I don't mind sharing a bed, if you don't mind that is." I stammer uncertianly.

He relaxes, looking pleased.

AHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHPAHHP

When I wake he is already up, he always wakes early. I find my usual neatly pressed suit in the bed. Its been painstakingly laid out.

Now dressed, I feel much better. Less nervous...how could anyone doubt my status? How could I?

He looks pleased to see me. "Come, come, mon ami. We have much to discuss!" he says in his usual commanding way. "Miss Lemon?" he calls. She enters, looking directly at Poirot, as if I were not present. Does she know? I try to ignore the cold panic. "Tea for myself and Hastings, if you please!" he continues.

"Let us talk. No?" he says calmly.

"With Miss Lemon so close by?" I ask surprised.

"She will not tell. In fact I am sure that she already knows. Securitarys know all!" he proclaims. "Now I assume you wish to keep us a more private matter?" he asks.

Would that offend him? Make him think that I am not proud of him? "Its for the best." I affirm.

He seems to agree. "I concur. Still it is safe to tell Miss Lemon and Inspector Japp?" he says, asking for my opinion.

I nod. "Quite right!" I approve.

"What of your affection for the ladies?" he asks.

I laugh. "Are you jealous?" I ask surprised.

He shakes his head. "Maybe a little, but that is not the point. I mean that you will surely act quite different. Others will notice." he says sounding annoyed, but caring.

"Oh!" I realise with embarassment "do you forgive me?" I ask.

"Bien sûr! You are blinded by beauty. That is your weakness, mon cher." he proclaims.

"You are not afraid I will wonder?" I ask.

"Your eyes wonder, but your heart! It beats true!" he theatrically replies.

I smile back. "Well, your right there!" I say relieved. "On any account, I can say that I have found someone to love, I do not have to say more than that!" I decide.

Poirot nods approvingly. "One last thing! Where will you be staying, now your wife will divorce you?" he asks.

I feel myself blush. How does he make me into such a school girl! "I was rather hoping to stay here." I confess.

He nods approvingly again. "Bon! That is most pleasing! Shall I have Miss Lemon make arrangements?" he asks, smiling happily. His positively glowing! I grin back, unable to stop myself.

"Shall we surprise Miss Lemon?" he asks teasingly. He grins like a school boy up to no good! I find myself returning the grin.

She enters with the tea, giving us suspicious looks.

Poirot speaks first. "You have heard of our dear Hastings divorce, no doubt?" he asks.

"I had heard some rumers" she said carefully, looking amused now.

"Well he is to stay here, would you be so kind to make the arrangements?" he asks.

She nods. "Any thing else?"

"Yes" He looks to me and smiles softly "we have an announcement, but we would appreciate your discression" he says.

"Of course!" she exclaims.

He looks at me, giving me a look. He wants me to say it? "I...we.." I look lovingly back at him "have decided to persue a relationship." I say nervously.

She doesn't react with disgust or even surprise. "I'm glad for you both!" she says pleased. "Though you took your time realising it!" she finishes, taking the used cups away like it was merely a usual day.

Poirot is glowing again! Why would I make him so happy? He sighs. "Your mind wonders again. Focus your mind on something productive! We have a case!" he scolds me in his firm yet kind way.

AN: R and R.


End file.
